I 'uj 4r irhiogan Batlu Seventy-Sixth Year EDITED AND MANAGED BY STUDENTS OF THE UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN UNDER AUTHORITY OF BOARD IN CONTROL OF STUDENT PUBLICATIONS FEIFFER Whev Opinions Are ree 420 MAYNARD ST., ANN ARBOR, MICH. 'mutb Will Prevail NEws PHONE: 764-0552 Editorials printed in The Michigan Daily express the inidividual opinions of staff writers or the editors. This must be noted in all reprints. FRIDAY, JUNE 3, 1966 NIGHT EDITOR: MARTHA WOLFGANG - i Students Voters Can Still Make a Difference P E R 5 T O M AK E * G THWOJS, 1T60OR A 3 (( t D~ THE CON N&L/~' ( s r °TU K CSCAM61 A W J ' t y II TrO MAK6 W& THE KAOWW9V, r. THAT; W OHAT- ER HOW HAMp( HE TRIC MAN) CAMW /ir ' copRupr 10 MAKEc C! VI LIAM531, NUMB- /tI AM) J 39J t OIFRSS- REGISTER FOR VOTING in Ann Ar- bor, an applicant must spend his sum- mers in town. He must also be 21 and have some de- gMee of financial independence, but these, oddly enough, are the more easily attain- ed requisites. Proportionately, not very many other- wise qualified students have the neces- sary summer or two in Ann Arbor to qualify for voting. There are graduate students who work and study around the year in Ann Arbor. There are some students who stay in town to do research. And there are some who register for semester after semester with the intent of an early graduation. But most students leave Ann Arbor for the summer. IT WOULD APPEAR that in addition enabling one to enter the proposed bar on South University near Washtenaw, a twenty-first birthday would entitle a University student to vote in some im- portant elections coming up later this year. But if he isn't in Ann Arbor this sum- mer, he won't be voting in Ann Arbor this fall, most likely. And back in his parents' home town, local officials will be reluctant to register him in their wards -a boy who spends most of the year at some university somewhere. Blessed are those currently in Ann Ar- bor, for at the moment of their twenty- first birthday, they will be able to con- vince the city clerk of their qualifica- tions. AND IT IS THIS GROUP, perhaps very small, that will be casting the student vote in future elections. They will join other students-if, hopefully these have not graduated and left town yet-who registered for voting last spring. It is this group of over 100 which is historic. It is very likely that their votes elected at least one city councilman in the April municipal election. This group turned out to be a solid third of all of Ann Arbor's new voters in 1966. And most of them affirmed their registration by voting in April, unlike some new reg- istrants. It was their very real presence and the votes they cast which affirmed the Student Housing Association proposal that student interests would cease to be overlooked once students began to win voting power. Theirs were efforts opposed by several municipal figures who saw the student voter registration drive as an intrusion into the life of the community. They dis- puted the residency of potential student voters. THE SPRING registration drive has been written off as a success by the sev- eral groups which took part in it. Since then, students have received increasing attention from government officials and candidates for political office. It has been proven undeniable that a studentry with voting interests in Ann Arborhas the political skills to demand attention to the problems with which it it concerned. TWO MORE registration drives are be- ing organized. One, relying on IBM information gleanings, is scheduled for the early days of fall registration. It will be massive and well-directed. Another will be beginning any day now. It will be less ambitious, and it will be aimed at a small group: students 21 or over currently living in Ann Arbor. But with only minimal student attention, the drive will be a success. It is unlikely that the city clerk will turn down students summering in Ann Arbor. The summer residence requirement is not really just. It is the product of sev- eral meshing court decisions and some old laws once in the state constitution and now in general statutes. A statement from the Michigan secretary of state which might have updated things never arrived as expected in March. Conse- quently, the registration campaigners have been bounded by some old rules, one of which is the summer residence requisite. IF SUMMERS in Ann Arbor are dull, per- haps it is understandable that so many students leave the campus before May 1. This may, in fact, make them dull. But, if in strolling down the June Diag, a 21-year-old student finds the Central Campus Quadrangle virtually deserted, it is really a signal for him to turn around, walk over to City Hall, and register for voting. --NEAL BRUSS a 'F AA JSJ r ( t Spain: Students Lead Democratic Revolt By FREDERICK BERGER Last of a 2-Part Series WHEN CLASSES reconvened in the fall of 1965, there was no time for a national strategy meet- ing. The decision on whether to participate in the government- sponsored SEU elections had to be left up to each center or faculty individually. Despite lack of plan- ning, there was a massive boycott of the October elections, ranging from 75 to 95 per cent at all ma- jor universities. The hour had grown late for a government-con- controlled student syndicate. The elected departmental dele- gates of the year before then or- ganized unofficial elections. Par- ticipation was massive. In some universities, notably Barcelona, there was no longer even an offi- cial SEU structure, only the de facto Council of Delegates elected by the students. THE EXECUTIVE Committee of the National Coordinating Meeting decided in late 1965 to begin the process of ratifying a constitution for the new national union. A set of principles and sta- tutes was circulated during the spring of 1966 among the depart- mental delegates at the University of Barcelona, where ten out of twelve departments were totally outside the SEU structure. Finally, a Constituent Assem- bly of the Free and Democratic Student Syndicate of Barcelona was planned for the second week in March, and invitations went to foreign national unions of stu- dents as well as to all other dis- tricts in Spain. In the spring of this year, the Rector denied permission to hold the assembly at the university. In- stead, the Capuchin monastery of Sarria, on the outskirts of Barce- lona, was chosen as the site. Only the top leadership of the district was aware of the site until one hour before the Assembly was to open at 5 p.m. on March 9. T HE TWO FOREIGN observers, myself and a representative of the International Student Confer- ence, went by car to the monas- tery, where the meeting room was packed to the ceiling with more :han 400 elected delegates from all faculties of the university. Ev- eryone seemed aware that he was present at an historic occasion. Thirty prominent Spanish intellec- ttrals were present to witness the wvent. The, mood of the young re- bels was intense and proud. Statements from other parts of Spain and from intellectuals who dared not come were read over mi- crophones.The representative of the ISC addressed the body in French. THEN IT IS my turn to speak. But instead, one of the student leaders takes the microphone; in an almost casual voice he speaks to the hushed delegates: "My friends, there has been a slight in- convenience. The police have just arrived outside and are demand- ing that we abandon the monas- tery and surrender our identifica- tion papers." A tense and confused debate en- sues, but no panic. Everyone knows that the police cannot le- gally enter the monastery without the permission of the Church, but many fear the consequences of a confrontation with the authori- ties. They know that against the mer- ciless and brutal Spanish police, peaceful resistance, as we know it in the United States, simply will not work. But finally the students vote to disobey. People mill about, nervous and excited by the turn of events. They sing "We Shall Not Be Mov- ed"-in English. They organize kitchen crews to help the rebel- lious monks prepare dinner for almost 500 people. AND SO IT GOES through the night. The next day, there are panel discussions by the intellec- tuals on art and society, on the two cultures, o n architecture. Leading Catalan poets read their poetry. Students with guitars or- ganize a rock and roll band for the occasion: Los Constituyentes--un- translatable, but roughly, the Leg- islators. Periodically we look over the wall around the monastery to see if the police are on guard. They're always there. The Church refuses, under enormous pressure from the gov- ernment, to allow the police to en- ter. For the first time since the Civil War, the Church is openly defying Franco. The Capuchin monks are the heroes of the hour. Word comes that the Bishop of Barcelona has promised to send in five truckloads of food, in defi- ance of the police cordon. That day, massive demonstra- tions around the monastery by students who have heard about us are broken up by mounted po- lice armed with 'clubs. A SECOND NIGHT and the po- lice are still there. We are becom- ing resigned to months of siege and isolation. Then, suddenly, the police enter the monastery at noon on March 11, after 44 hours. They have vio- lated the sanctity of the Church for the first time. Everyone files out quietly, hand- ing over identification cards. The excitement is over, and the threat of prosecution looms over everyone. The intellectuals and foreign observers are arrested and carted off for lengthy and punishing in- terrogations. Finally, at midnight two secret policemen accompany myself and the ISC observer to the French border, where we are officially expelled from Spain by order of the Governor of Catalon- ia, though more probably by or- ders from Madrid. THE POLICE invasion of the monastery of Sarria has led to dozens of protest demonstrations, involving tens of thousands of students all over Spain. Religious orders and other sectors of the Church are now openly backing the students. The intellectuals have been fin- ed a total of $48,000. On May 6, the police arrested all the leaders of the Democratic Students Syn- dicate of Barcelona except three who are in hiding. The university there has been closed for weeks, and students at Bilbao, Sevilla, Valencia and Pamplona are strik- ing in sympathy. Newsweek re- ported on May 16 that "only last week, Madrid erupted in the worst riot to date." THERE ARE THOSE who want to believe that the Assembly of Sarria was primarily a result of the traditional separatism of Ca- talonia. But the current genera- tion of student activists is no 4on- ger separatist, though it retains a strong awareness of Catalan culture. The students of Barcelona are more unified and militant than those elsewhere in Spain, but as the events of the past two months have shown, their achieve- ments and tribulations catalyzed student activism in all parts of the country. The more the leadership is per- secuted, the more unified and mili- tant the movement will become. Those who are uncommitted at first join the movement out of sheer resentment against the arbi- trariness of the government, and once involved, become gradually politicized and militant. A LEADING FIGURE in the underground Christian Democra- tic Party of Spain recently warn- ed me that unless the American student community begins to show an active commitment to demo- cracy in Spain, the struggle will fall into the hands of the totali- tarian left. "You have just as much right to claim credit for this struggle as they do. After all, an American student was expelled for partici- pating in the Barcelona meeting. Will you Americans finally come to our aid, after years of solitary struggle? Will you contribute to the fund for the intellectuals, just as others in the world are doing, or will you let them claim all the credit? There is no time for hesi- tation-whatever you decide, don't ignore us any longer." The 'Equality' of the Draft You HAVE TO HAND IT to democracy; equality in all things is its motto. Not only is the draft a lamentable process in the light of its discrimination against poverty-stricken Americans, but is la- mentable in its discrimination against foreigners. Admirable use of the "equal rights for all" clause. The Melting Pot of nations and all that rot. A FRIEND of mine came from England six months ago and, without a student visa unless he returns to England, will be called before his local Selective Serv- ice Bureau in July. Because he has been living here for six months and because he has become employed, the hapless lad has been classified as an employed resi- dent who is not going to school. Colonel Holmes and the rest of us all know what happens to employed resi- dents who are not going to school. They become the employed tools of interven- tion in a foreign country whose citizens would sooner burn in a pagoda than die on the bayonet of the Viet Cong. The fact that my friend is not an American citizen, and cannot possibly become one for five years is of little consequence. OR IS IT? The friendly lady I called at the Ann Arbor draft board didn't seem to think so. When asked about the justice of the law, she efficiently clicked back that it didn't matter because "it's the law of the land." In answer to my query as to the justice in the law of the land, she merely hung up. Colonel Holmes, Gen. Hershey, Robert McNamara, President Johnson and all the anonymous men sitting behind draft webs across the country evidently don't think that the matter is of consequence. After n , 1l 4 n+n n-n mn a 3w, snttnv f h v-ir 4 OR WOULD THEY? The history of that necessary but regrettable institution leaves some doubt. The standard set of operations has not been altered in 15 years, since the days of the lottery. In 1964 a Pentagon Study Commission was established to investigate the Selective Service System and make recommenda- tions on how it could be improved. However, there was a war going on which quickly escalated to lunatic propor- tions. The war is backed by the admin- istration. The Selective Service System is the major tool in the war (whoever heard of a war without men fighting in it?). The Pentagon Study Commission, by its very nature, is part of the ad- ministration. The investigation was de- layed: after all there is a war going on. HiOWEVER, THE DRAFT has recently become the object of harsh criticism and pending investigation. It is affecting too many people to be ignored. The bliss- ful days of ignorance about its opera- tions are gone. It's going to be a long, hot summer, a long hard winter, and evi- dently from official statements, a longer, harder war. The results of the investigation of the study commission will be coming out soon. There are many speculations as to what it will contain and ought to contain: a lot- tery, voluntary service, calling up the Re- serves, etc. I would suggest one big improvement. When American citizens are marching against a war which their country has er- roneously waged, when they are marching against their draftable fate, why should a non-citizen be drafted? Why should he fight for another country's mistakes as the price for visiting and becoming an "employed resident?" We ask a lot from our allies, but the bodies of their sons is A New Perspective on Film Criticism 10 By ANDREW LUGG 1N THIS ARTICLE I wish to in- troduce the concept of film cri- ticism as one of polemics. The majority of film criticism, every- where, centers around the ques- tion, "Was the film good?" and this question in terms of enter- tainment value or whether or not the film was "arty." Film criticism Degenerates in- to a matter of personal whim. Hollywood extravaganzas are dis- missed or praised according to the role the critic dictates for him- self. Likewise, criticism of the American underground cinema de- pends on whether you are be- fore it or just with it. TO GET AROUND this, to cre- ate a criticism inclusive of all these strains and exclusive of per- sonal fantasy, the critic has to erect an appreciation which de- pends on a total view of the cine- ma. That is, how cinema may or does assert itself, not sociological- ly, but as an art. Paradoxically, it becomes more difficult to announce that "L'An- nee Dernier a Marienbad" is a great movie, "art," whereas "High Noon" may be good entertainment, but it certainly does not aspire "haute couture." I am not sug- gesting that you should make a point of seeing "High Noon" as many times as you might wish to see "Marienbad," On the contrary. However, I will try to indicate that it is for the same reasons that both these movies are clas- sics, and, further, that this com- mon base is a criterion, which is independent of art or entertain- ment value, from which a criti- cal appreciation should stem. IN GIVING the common base, we engage in polemics, and it is here that discussion should begin, most film theorists. The novel and drama depend on illusion and sug- gestion. The film works in terms of free association. It presents an imitation as does the painting which requires a response just like the painting, but now it must be immediate. To be sure, this pre- sents problems-for the future, THE FILM lies in the regime of feeling. There is nothing to ar- ticulate. D. W. Griffiths announc- ed that his cinema was to make us see. I am suggesting that its task is to make us "feel." If this sounds mystical, "see" it this way. The documentary na- ture of cinema has been taken over by the television (film news is old news). But the cinema still has things to "say" about social problems. The point of view of the camera dictates selectivity and hinders its objectivity. As the film cannot emulate the "White Pa-, per," it must admit its selectiv- ity and give to its subject matter an aura of timelessness or, bet- ter, universality. And, it does this just by creating moods. I am thinking of Italian neo- realism, of Visconti and of Fel- lini. For example, with Visconti the plight of the Sicilian fisher- man is the plight of the world. It is this approach our film-mak- ers lack. BACK HOME, this limiting of subject matter results in Coe and Owens making "A Patch of Blue" and "Nobody Waved Goodby." Bad films. Self-exposed committed cinema in North America fails be- cause, among other reasons, the directors are awe-struck, hide bound, If the cinema can make us "feel" and it is agreed that un- derstanding is superior to senti- mental reaction, then the overtly committed cinema is not more committed than any other form of cinema. Usually less so. So, whether we are talking about Hawkes or about Goddard, "Mar- ienbad" or "High Noon," the es- sence of these directors' art, or of these classics is the successful use of mise-en-scene, i.e., the ability to create mood. Brunuel, the most revolutionary of film-makers, and Renoir, perhaps the most lyrical, reveal their idea through the mood, the only variable being the form of the mood. IT IS ONLY from such a cri- tique that the Underground cin- ema world can be discussed with- out abject horror or hipster jar- gon. For Andy Warhol to be in- terested in bad camera work, be- comes at least understandable. Elsewhere, the best in Japanese cinema, Polish cinema, and so on, is judged by the quality I indicate, and the test for the new Brazilian cinema (there is one) and the new Hungarian cinema is in the way directors are willing and free to handle mise-en-scene. And by handle, I mean control. What is mise-en-scene? It is everything -,it is the complete film, not only the images but also the music, the noise. It is like emotion: either you have it or you do not. It is the "feel" of the film. It is the ability of the di- rector to create what Fellini calls a new life. If you want to know where it is, you have to "see" mo- vies. THE ANSWER, then, to "What is a good film?" is another ques- tion: "What happens to the mood?" Is it consistent and con- trolled?" If so, we are interested in knowing how this was done. Another Turn of the Screw NOW EVEN THE semblance of American aloofness and im- partiality in the internal affairs of South Vietnam have disappear- ed, and the United States is giving Gen. Nguyen Cao Ky military and moral support in fighting his op- ponents at home. In Washington at least, though perhaps not in Saigon, the ad- ministration would have preferred to keep its hands off the internal conflict and to be regarded as waiting dispassionately for the verdict of the South Vietnamese voters in the promised elections. But the administration in Wash- ington has not controlled what Today and Tomorrow By WALTER LIPPMANN Vietnam while the preponderant military and economic power in the country is foreign. INCREASINGLY, it is true that the United States controls only the ground on which its soldiers stand. There can be little question that in 1nnnrtin- aGen Ky we ing good government in the thou- sands of villages of Vietnam. Although the situation is bad and our entanglement is deep and dangerous, it would not be impos- sible, even now, to regain control of our intervention to shape events for a rational solution. But this cannot be done by a President who thinks that any course of action different from the one he is taking is "abject surrender."In the realm of statesmanship, to believe that is to be a defeatist. LOSING CONTROL of the war can lead to irresistible demand in this country to go all out by using .ir nnu + tora+ctr Noth Viot- With a limitation of forces there must necessarily be a limitation of our objectives. Even if we fix the military commitment at the high level of 400,000 men, we must reduce our present objectives which are to reconquer the whole territory so completely that Gen. Ky's junta is able to govern it. SUCH A LIMITATION on our means and ends would not be abject surrender. It would be hon- orable in that it would provide asylum for the Vietnamese who need it or want it, and it would be enormously significant in that it would without fail set in motion 4i